


From Shadows To Sunlight

by Jade_Waters



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Non-exclusive relationship, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Waters/pseuds/Jade_Waters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the most sordid affair Julian has ever been apart of.</p>
<p>Maybe that's why he likes it so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Shadows To Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> I tend to stick to writing single-scene type fics, so this one is a bit out of my comfort zone. I tried really hard to get the timeline right, so I apologize in advance if I've mixed anything up.
> 
> Enjoy!

**2370**   
  
It is the most sordid affair Julian has ever been a part of.  
  
Maybe that’s why he likes it so much, why it feels like an addiction, why he can barely eat or sleep he’s so busy thinking about it.  
  
Or maybe that’s all just because Garak knows exactly how to get under his skin.  
  
They’re in some dark little corner of the station. Julian feels like they’re going to be caught at any moment, but he knows Garak wouldn’t be here if he thought that were true. It’s late and the corridors are silent but for the ever-present hum of the station. Garak is pressed up tight against him, and he is pressed tight against the wall. It’s been  weeks since the last time, so Julian is clingy, desperate. It doesn’t take long for Garak to pin his hands to the wall as well, pressing a leg between his, pressing up, kissing, swallowing the groan that comes out of him. He knows by now not to speak - Garak won’t answer, only hush him, but he’s never any good at being quiet.  
  
In a flash, Garak’s turned him around, pressed his front into the wall, pulled his uniform trousers down to his thighs. The Cardassian tugs the top of his uniform loose, just enough to bite where his neck meets his shoulder as he pushes a slick finger into Julian’s ass. A high-pitched whine escapes Julian, and Garak’s free hand quickly covers his mouth. Too soon, Garak pushes his cock into Julian, and it hurts but it’s all he’s wanted for days so he pushes back, trying to take more, faster. One hand on his mouth, the other on his hip, Garak holds him steady as Julian braces himself against the wall. As he picks up the pace, initial pain slips into hot pleasure, and Julian knows he  would be swearing, begging, shouting if Garak let his mouth free. He doesn’t, not even behind Garak’s hand, because he knows: Garak will stop. Garak will hold his nose, cut off his breath. Once, Garak even left, right in the middle of things. So he does his best to be quiet, and lets the hand cover up the rest.  
  
The other hand soon sneaks around front, holds Julian just the way he likes it, strokes in time with Garak’s thrusts and oh, oh yes, it’s marvelous, and he’s coming. Just at the end, he hears the only sound Garak ever makes - a soft, surprised little gasp, muffled against his back - and he feels hot liquid inside him.  It’s all over - it’s always over - in less than ten minutes. Garak puts him back together again, puts himself together, kisses him on the lips again, affectionately this time, and then is gone, lost to the darkness, leaving Julian to catch his breath alone.  
  
*  
  
At lunch, Garak talks about their latest reading. Cardassian poetry, this week. Julian actually quite liked it, but he’s making Garak work for the approval anyway. Mostly, he likes to see Garak worked up, mildly offended; he gets so passionate trying to make Julian see the beauty that he sees, and Julian would love him just for that. When Garak  stops his lecture, hands paused in mid-air, head tilted to the side, he says with sudden understanding, “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” Julian only smiles impishly.  
  
Sometimes they go months without anything other than these lunches between them. Julian is just as greedy here as he is in the station’s dark corners. The conversation between them is fast and challenging, and Julian never wastes a minute of it. Lunch also ends too soon.  
  
*  
  
“There’s this girl I’ve been seeing,” Julian says through the curtain as he tries on a shirt in Garak’s shop. Garak is always a bit more professional here, careful to keep that merchant smile on his face and some distance in his voice, careful to keep tables and curtains between himself and Julian. But Julian still finds it a useful place for talking. “I think I need your advice, Garak.” This has become his code for talking about them. It’s easy enough to use another girl he’s dating as a stand in for Garak, and believable enough since Garak has _insisted_ he keep seeing women.  
  
“Oh?” comes the reply from somewhere in the store. No one else is here at the moment, but Garak is always fiddling with the clothes, folding and refolding. “What happened to the last one?”   
  
Julian smirks to himself, “Oh, you know how I am - I get distracted so easily.”  
  
Garak chuckles, and his voice is full of warmth as he says, “My dear, you’re as fickle as a child with too many toys. How do you like the blue shirt?”  
  
“It’s lovely, but I’m not sure I’d have an occasion to wear it. But this girl, Garak. Everything’s so quick with her, I haven’t had time to talk to her. It’s just, well, she’s very in control. Which is fine! Everything’s wonderful, but I’d like just once maybe to return the favor, if you know what I mean. I’d like to give her something in return, to be sure she’s enjoying things as much as I am.” Julian watches himself fidget in the mirror, hoping Garak will understand.   
  
The store is quiet so long Julian wonders if Garak is gone. As he’s about to look, Garak says from just outside the curtain, “Hand me that blue shirt - I’ve brought you a better one.” He gives Julian something soft and ivory colored. While he puts it on, Garak muses, “I’m sure if this girl of yours is taking what she wants then she must be quite happy already. But I can see it’s upsetting your Federation sense of fairness. Perhaps she’ll be more open to your suggestions than you think, Doctor. How is this shirt?”  
  
Julian steps out of the fitting room. The shirt is beautiful on him and he knows it. He relishes the hunger he sees in Garak’s eyes before the spy has a chance to look away. “I’ll take it,” he says.  He is one of Garak’s best customers.  
  
*  
  
 A few days later, Garak pulls him into another dark corner, but he presses himself against the wall, pulls Julian between his legs as they kiss. The doctor takes the hint, takes the lead. He traces the ridges on Garak’s face, along his ears, presses harder as he rubs the neck ridges. He doesn’t want to mess up, so he’s quick about it, not lingering like he wants to. Another kiss, and then he’s sinking to his knees. He guides Garak’s hands to his head, then undoes his trousers. There is silence above him, barely breathing as he slips his mouth around Garak’s cock, but the fingers tighten in his hair and he takes it as a compliment. The cock is heavy on his tongue, the ridge line more pronounced than a human’s, but all in all it’s surprisingly familiar. He wants to memorize all the little details, which movements produce which results, but he knows there isn’t time, so he sucks hard and bobs his head fast, doing his best to breathe quietly. At least like this, he thinks, he can’t say anything. Toward the end, Garak holds his head still, fingers demanding against his skull, and he fucks Julian’s mouth until he comes. Julian is still swallowing when Garak tugs him up, pulls him close. They’re kissing and Garak’s hand is very suddenly in his trousers, rubbing his cock, and, oh, _fuck_ , yes, he’s coming in his pants like a teenager.  
  
Garak smirks against his cheek as he holds him upright. Julian licks his face for being a prick. He can imagine the indignant look he gets for that. He leans his forehead against Garak’s and for a few seconds their breath mingles between them and Julian’s pretty sure they’re both smiling.  
  
*  
 **2371**  
  
“You don’t ask me anymore about how I got myself exiled,” Garak mentions one evening. It doesn’t sound like a question, but Julian knows it is.  
  
“I figured it out,” Julian says quickly, but adds, “Well, I mean, I have a theory. One I rather enjoy and would like to keep.”  
  
“And here I thought you’d given up. Do _tell_ , my dear Doctor. I’m all ears,” Garak says. He’s jovial, ready to be amused.  
  
Julian’s not sure he wants to share, but he hates to disappoint, so he starts, “You framed yourself.”  
  
“I did _what?”_ Garak asks, mock-appalled at his own supposed behavior.  
  
The doctor smirks, “It’s the only thing that makes all those stories you told me true. And it explains why you used ‘Elim’ in each of them. You were at the top, powerful, feared, like you said. But on Bajor you started to have doubts. You had to carry out orders that seemed pointless. The whole thing seemed wasteful and meaningless. You began to doubt the government, Tain, yourself. So, one day, you planted evidence against yourself. Maybe you just meant to distance yourself from Tain, or fall from grace so you could disappear more easily. I don’t know, but Tain figured out what you were up to. He exiled you for what he saw as desertion.” After a pause, Julian says, “Or at least, that’s my theory.”  
  
Garak stares at him for a long time, expression very carefully neutral. At last he smiles, enigmatic, and says, “That is a _most_ fascinating story, Doctor. You have more imagination than I gave you credit for.”    
  
He carries on like it’s nothing, but there’s a particular heat in his blue eyes that only comes when Julian’s been especially clever. It makes him think of dark corners.  
  
*  
 **2372**  
  
“Look,” Jadzia says to Julian one night over drinks, “I’m not trying to judge or anything. It’s just that I worry about you. I’m your friend and I know these women aren’t your type.”  
  
Julian’s had enough to drink that he has to think about what to say next. Jadzia is quick to catch on to any social intrigue, so he just says, “What’s my type, then?”  
  
Jadzia gives him a look like he should know better, but answers, “You like smart, older women, especially if there’s a hint of danger thrown in. So what’s with all the arm candy?”  
  
Julian nearly chokes on his drink. Jadzia knows how to hit the nail on the head. He’s almost surprised she hasn’t figured him out yet. But he’s not inclined to help, so he just waves it off. “I’m just looking for a bit of fun, is all. Unless,” he gives Jadzia a suggestive look, “You’ve suddenly become interested?”  
  
Jadzia laughs and hits his arm, “Don’t count on it.”    
  
*  
 **2373**  
  
Julian dates Leeta for over a year. It makes Garak and Jadzia happy, if for different reasons. It’s nice: they like each other and have fun together. Julian likes the regular companionship, and Leeta really is smarter than people give her credit for. But she knows he’s holding back. Julian knows he’s being unfair.  
  
When Garak asks over lunch how things are going, Julian sighs and says, “She knows I’m keeping secrets from her.”  
  
Garak’s eye ridges go up, “Secrets? My dear, I thought you valued honesty.”  
  
Julian knows he’s teasing, that Garak loves nothing more than poking holes in his Federation ideology. But Julian doesn’t feel like playing; he feels ashamed. “You’re right,” he answers, looking down, “If I can’t be honest with her then I shouldn’t have let things go on so long.” He starts to get up to find Leeta, but Garak grabs his wrist, keeps him seated. For a moment, there is panic in his eyes. Surprised, maybe annoyed, Julian says, “I have more than one secret, you know, and I don’t intend on telling anyone any of them.”  
  
Garak’s gaze shifts to surprise, curiosity, but he lets go, and Julian leaves.  
  
*  
  
A week or so after Julian and Leeta break up, just days after Garak wakes up from Odo’s dream (about which he will say very little), Garak and Julian are walking back from Quark’s when Garak suddenly diverts them down a small maintenance corridor and pushes them into a storage closet. ‘Closet’ is a generous term, but Julian doesn’t have time to think about it before Garak’s on his knees, opening his uniform, and then, _oh_ , that mouth is hot around him and he has to bite his hand to keep quiet. It’s perfect and he wants to say so, he’s aching to say so, but he can’t. He squeezes Garak’s hand and hopes that says enough. In minutes, he’s coming, and Garak swallows everything. The spy stands and they kiss and he’s already going to leave, putting Julian’s trousers back together, smoothing his shirt, but Julian fists his hands into Garak’s tunic, whispering, begging, quiet as he can, “Please not yet,” just a hiss. Sometimes Garak is impatient with him, his grip rough, but this time he is gentle as he takes Julian’s hands off himself. He kisses Julian, soft and apologetic. Then he’s gone again.  
  
It’s the last time they’re together before Julian wakes up in a Jem’Hadar prison camp.  
  
*  
  
Julian spends a lot of time alone while he’s a prisoner. He has a lot of time to think. He sequences a vaccine for Urodelan flu in his head, drafts a paper on Odo’s linking abilities (which he will never actually publish), and muses about how frontier medicine is not what he thought it would be. After the first week or so, he also thinks he’s been a fool: this thing with Garak hasn’t been just another little affair in a long time. It’s not a fling, it’s not for fun, and it’s not lighthearted. He’s been thinking of it in those terms for years, but perhaps only to save himself from the much more painful truth. He loves Garak. It’s a pity he’s only realized this in time to die. Of course he’s known he loves Garak for years. At least since that time he’d had to watch Garak get shot and die, even if it had only been the Founders’ simulation. It’s never really struck him as notable, though, because Julian loves many people, including Leeta and Miles and Jadzia. He is a very gregarious person, after all.   
  
But alone, confined, waiting for death, Julian Bashir realizes he loves Elim Garak _desperately_. “Oh God,” he whispers as he lets the feeling cascade through him. He feels dizzy and sick and he wonders if Garak already knows, and if it is the same for him. He wonders if he’ll find out before he dies.  
  
By the third week, Julian doesn’t care if Garak hates him, so long as he gets to see the man again.  
  
*  
  
Julian does see Garak again, although everything’s a bit of a mess. He learns that Garak is claustrophobic and the literal son of Tain, so it’s fair enough, he supposes, that Garak learns barely a week later that he’s an augmented human. At least it’s finally a secret that he can discuss, even if he’s still terrified someone’s going to show up and drag him off never to be seen again. Garak doesn’t even act surprised, though. Maybe he knew all along and Julian’s an even bigger fool than he thinks.  
  
It doesn’t matter. He’s started taking late night walks and Garak always knows exactly where to find him. He dreams of cold metal walls against his sweating skin. He lives for the dark corners, prays for the next shadow to take him.  
  
Soon, the war starts in earnest.  
  
*  
 **2374**  
  
Julian stops dating women. It feels too empty and false. Maybe he’s finally gotten too old for all that.    
  
Garak is talking. They’re eating lunch. Or, Garak is eating. Julian is playing with his food. When Garak asks what’s wrong, Julian sighs. He stares for a long moment, unsure how to answer. Garak ought to know what’s wrong. He should know he’s driving his lover slowly mad. After some four years of this, Garak _must_ know.  
  
Julian thinks some of that must be conveyed in his stare because Garak’s curiosity dampens a bit. He doesn’t know how to explain how he feels about Ziyal, or about her death. He doesn’t know how to explain about the cold side of his bed, or about how the war keeps him up at night because he knows he’s no fighter, and doesn’t want to be. So many things are wrong, big and small. At last, he shakes his head and settles on, “I’m lonely.”  
  
Garak knows exactly what he means, Julian is sure. But he only plays the helpful friend, smiling, saying, “You know, that young woman over there has had her eyes on you for days now. I must say, she has excellent taste in fabrics.”  
  
Julian does his best to conceal how brokenhearted that makes him feel, but he knows the spy sees it anyway. After another long, quiet moment, he says, “I guess I’m just looking for something different these days.”  
  
Garak’s smile is bright, but a sadness underlies his tone as he says, “My dear Doctor, I do hope you find what you’re looking for.”  
  
*  
  
It finally occurs to Julian that there is one way he can see Garak in the light. They both work in bodies, and Garak has been measuring his for years. Julian’s disappointed it’s taken him so long to think of a solution, but he doesn’t waste time implementing it.  
  
“ _Please_ let me give you a medical exam. Just a routine physical, I swear,” he pleads over lunch.   
  
Garak is adamant, “I assure you, Doctor, I am in perfect health.”  
  
“Then it’s the perfect time to do an exam! I’ll have baseline readings I can compare to if you ever do get sick.” Julian will argue this until Garak gives in or kills him. He has spent five years with this man and has never seen his body. There’s so much between them that he wants but can’t have. He’ll be damned if Garak will deny him this.  
  
“I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: I have no interest in being gawked at.”  
  
“I’ll do it myself. Alone,” Julian assures him. “No one will see you but me.”    
  
Garak is about to keep resisting, but he must catch the need in Julian’s eyes, or perhaps the unusual levels of insistence in his voice, because he pauses, carefully looks Julian over as if he’s trying to determine what the human really wants. He must figure it out because he relents, “Fine. But you _will_ dim the lights to 85% station standard, and you _will_ raise the temperature at least 5 degrees Centigrade.”  
  
Julian smiles wide, “Agreed.”  
  
*  
  
Julian raises the temperature of the private exam room 7 degrees, and reduces the lights to 80%. He sends all extra staff away, and makes sure everyone else is busy. Still, he is surprised when Garak actually shows up.  
  
The Cardassian is clearly uncomfortable, his posture stiff and his tone sharp, but Julian knows how to be a doctor. As professional as he can be, he says, “Please remove your clothes. Underwear are fine.” He keeps any and all judgement off his face, only lets his eyes travel once down and up that gray skin.  
  
Then, he takes Garak’s measurements. He does it all by hand, the old fashioned way: height, weight, blood pressure. He gets stuck on heartbeat for a moment, lingering, listening, until Garak clears his throat. He moves on to look in Garak’s ears, eyes, mouth. The spy really does appear to be in excellent health. Julian memorizes all the data. With Garak standing, he runs his hands over his skin, pushing here and there, careful to keep a doctor’s touch, searching for any pain, anything broken, strained, stressed. He sees old scars, white against the gray. When he brushes over one, lingers, Garak murmurs, “A lifetime of small mistakes, my dear, nothing more.”  
  
Their eyes meet, and Julian feels the weight of the gift Garak’s given him. This is his trust, as much of it as he can muster. Julian hopes his gratitude is clearly written on his face. Garak smiles a sad smile that says, _If it’s you who kills me, I won’t mind so much,_ and Julian understands that Garak loves him, too.  
  
*  
 **2375**   
  
The night before Garak’s scheduled to leave for the Cardassian resistance, Julian wakes up with a hand over his mouth. He starts, but Garak’s voice whispers, “Sh, sh,” and the scent of him washes over Julian. This has never happened before: they’ve been clandestine lovers for six years, but they have never been together in a bed. The thought might make Julian cry, but Garak is kissing him long and slow, and his hands are pushing at his clothes. Julian notices the lights in his room - even the ever-present panel above his bed - are completely out; only faint starlight makes his windows glow. Garak is nothing but shadow. He whispers, “Yes, please,” but Garak’s finger hushes him and he knows the same rules apply. For once, Garak is slow. He removes all the clothes between them. He lets Julian touch him, lets himself run his hands over Julian’s skin like this is their first time.   
  
At some point, Julian realizes this is Garak’s goodbye. His breath catches and he cannot stop from crying, quiet as he can. The Cardassian, kissing down his chest, feels the stutter in his breathing and stops where he is. He comes back up so they’re nose to nose, his fingers touching Julian’s face until he finds wet tracks. Julian breathes, “Sorry, sorry,” but Garak silences him with a kiss, full of understanding. He wipes away the tears, hushes him, tender, until Julian’s breathing is even again.  
  
He kisses back down, settles between Julian’s legs and sucks him off slowly. Savoring, Julian thinks. Julian pants and gasps and doesn’t say a word, not even when Garak pushes his fingers into him. The spy pulls back when Julian is breathing hard, sweating, and loose. He lines their bodies up in the dark, kisses Julian open mouthed, and doesn’t shush him when a high, breathy moan escapes as Garak pushes in. Julian knows Garak sees that sound as a risk, that hearing it this once is an indulgence of the most decadent kind. Julian lets his body show how much he wants - needs - this, lets his hips rock and his hands grab and his kisses beg. For once, it goes on and on, and Julian feels like a man lost in the desert finally finding enough water to quench his thirst.   
  
But even still, it ends, their bodies collapsing together.  
  
Julian’s hands are shaking when he finds Garak’s face, pulls him close for a kiss.  Garak’s hands cover his, steady him. Garak kisses along his jaw, his throat. Buried in his neck, Garak whispers, “Dearest,” the most he’s ever said in the dark.  
  
Julian lets it sink into his heart, lets it carve him up inside.  
  
Garak goes.  
  
*  
 **2376**  
  
Julian tries it with Ezri. It _is_ good, for a while. He wants it to last, but it doesn’t. Julian still feels empty and alone, and Ezri has no reason to stay on DS9 after Sisko is gone. The war is over, and everyone scatters like leaves. Ezri goes back to Trill to find the help and training she needs to make her joining a more harmonious one. Julian stays on Deep Space 9.   
  
He writes to Garak.  
  
Garak writes him a book. Reading it feels like coming home.  
  
Not a week later, Julian is on Cardassia Prime.  
  
*  
  
It is the most challenging relationship Julian has ever been a part of.  
  
Maybe that’s why he loves it so much, why he feels lost without it, why he’s traveled lightyears in pursuit of it.  
  
Or maybe that’s all just because Garak knows exactly how to get under his skin.  
  
Julian wasn’t sure what he’d find on Cardassia, whether Garak would be happy to see him or not, whether he would even be permitted onto the planet’s surface, given his Federation status.    
  
But here he is, and here Garak is. It is hot, and Garak was terribly accurate about the dust, and rubble still litters the streets. But here they are in the small space Garak has made his home.  
  
It is daylight: a gritty brown light made ambient by the dust. The world glows monotone. “Let me look at you,” Garak says, wide-eyed, like he’d hoped but never believed that Julian would come. “Cardassian sunlight suits you,” he observes.  
  
“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” Julian half-apologizes, but Garak is shaking his head, waving his hand to dismiss the comment. His eyes are measuring him again. Julian fidgets like he’s still 27.  
  
“My dear doctor,” Garak says. He pauses, lost in thought, before he says, “It has been too long.”    
  
Julian can see they’re not sure where to begin. If they should begin. It’s never been easy between them, and they’ve never had time. But they are here, out of their dark corners, and Julian is not going to waste this. He steps close, keeping eye contact, and runs his fingers down Garak’s chest, tugs at the loose shirt. He murmurs, “You’ve lost weight.”  
  
“Everyone has,” Garak whispers. He wraps a hand over Julian’s, holds it still.  
  
Julian traces one of Garak’s eye ridges, runs his fingers back like he’s brushing hair behind the Cardassian’s ear, settles on cupping his jaw. He is in awe that Garak lets him. “You look tired,” he adds. Being home has clearly taken more out of Garak than being on DS9 ever did. Julian is sorry he hasn’t been here to help, even though he knows his help would be minimal at best. Still, this is where the need has been, and he has been far away.  
  
“Everyone is,” Garak answers, interrupting Julian’s thoughts. He takes Julian’s hand and kisses the palm. Desire flickers through Julian and he sees the echo in Garak’s eyes. He kisses, bites at Julian’s wrist, grins as the doctor’s breath catches. He pulls Julian in, presses their bodies together. They kiss. _Oh_ , they kiss long and hard and Julian is dizzy when he pulls back gasping.  
  
“Should I be quiet?” he asks.  
  
He gets a growl in response, “Don’t you dare!” Garak captures his mouth again, licks along his bottom lip before kissing down his jaw. Garak has never left a mark on him before, has never kissed or bitten his skin hard enough to leave evidence. When the Cardassian reaches his neck, Julian realizes Garak intends to make up for lost time. He bites hard, bites again, humming his approval as Julian moans.   
  
They end up in Garak’s bed. It’s small and traditional Cardassian, but Julian doesn’t care, barely notices. Mutually naked, they spend ages exploring. Garak discovers a mole on the inside of Julian’s thigh and won’t leave it be until the doctor manages to flip them both over, straddles the Cardassian’s hips. Julian raises his hands and crows, “Victory!” and laughs.    
  
Garak indulges him, smiles and pets his legs. “And what will you do with your conquered opponent?”  
  
Julian leans forward, hands framing Garak’s head as he kisses him, languid. Pulling back, nose-to-nose, he teases, “Never fear, I am a benevolent master.”  
  
Garak laughs so hard Julian thinks he might be unseated, but at last he calms down, rests his hands on the human’s hips. When he meets Julian’s eyes, he looks more relaxed than Julian’s ever seen him. “Thank you, my dear,” he says, “I needed that.”  
  
“I’m fairly certain you’re laughing _at_ me, though,” Julian pouts.  
  
“I would never,” Garak promises, all false sincerity. He pulls Julian down for a kiss before he can argue, and the conversation is quickly forgotten. Soon, Julian feels a slick finger press into his ass. He hisses against the burning sensation, presses his head into Garak’s shoulder. The Cardassian bites his neck, sucks a deep mark into his skin Julian’s sure will be purple by morning. As he licks it over, he presses his finger against Julian’s prostate, pulling a long, shuddering moan out of the doctor.   
  
Julian can feel how smug Garak is without even looking. He bites back, startles when Garak groans in response. He pulls back to see Garak’s face, to make sure he hasn’t made a mistake, but Garak only laughs at him again. “My dear, please do continue. I have been silent as the grave for so many years I think it’s about time I sound alive, don’t you?”  
  
Not taking the time to answer, Julian sets to work in earnest, pulling ages’ worth of noise out of his lover with kisses and bites and licks. He barely notices when Garak slips a second finger into him. The Cardassian is nothing if not methodical, though, and pushes deep into his ass, stretching and finger fucking him until Julian is hot and sweating and gasping, “Come on, Garak, come on, _fuck_ me already.” After he says it, Julian thinks Garak might have just wanted to hear him ask for it.  
  
“You do the honors, Doctor,” Garak answers, pushing him back up so they can see each other.    
  
Julian lines himself up with Garak’s cock and pushes himself down as quickly as he can bare until he finally bottoms out. He is breathing hard against the pressure - it has been _far_ too long. Taking a moment to adjust, he looks over the man beneath him, at his tan hands against gray skin, at ridge lines he has only rarely seen, at Garak’s face not bothering to mask his pleasure. “You’re marvelous,” he says at last.  
  
“And you, my dear, are more breathtaking than a Cardassian sunrise,” Garak replies.   
  
In the sepia, ocher, golden light, they move together. They watch one another. Julian lifts his hips and drops them down, and Garak meets every rock of his hips. They go slow, but Julian feels the heat build low in his gut. His voice is needy and ragged as he asks, “More, Garak, please,” and then just because he can, “Fuck me faster.”  
  
Garak moans, squeezes his eyes shut as he gasps, “Julian.” His knees come up and he grasps his hips tight as he thrusts in deep and hard.   
  
Julian holds himself up as Garak pounds into him. He lets his head fall back as he gasps and howls and swears and begs. Garak’s hand wraps around his cock and he looks down, watches that gray hand slide over his dark and leaking cock. His mind short-circuits right then and he knows he’s spouting nonsense after that but he can’t help it, just pours out, _“Oh God oh God oh God,”_ until he looks up to Garak’s eyes, the blue so burning he groans out, _“Ooooh, Garak!”_ and he is coming, coming, coming right out of his mind.   
  
He ends up sprawled across Garak’s chest, both of them catching their breath. There is sticky goo between them and inside of him and it just makes him want to purr. The light’s sliding into orange and red now, promising to fade soon. Garak trails his fingers up and down Julian’s spine, humming contentedly. Julian turns his head so he can see Garak, wonders what comes next.  
  
The spy lets Julian watch him a while, basking in the afterglow, the attention, the heat of Julian’s body. He can feel the tension sneaking back into Julian’s muscles though, so after a while he asks, “What is it?”  
  
Julian fidgets. “We’ve never had this part before. I - I don’t know what happens now.” He is sad and nervous and afraid all at once.  
  
But Garak pulls him up, kisses him for long minutes, open-mounted and lazy, until Julian relaxes. He rearranges their bodies so that they lay on their sides, Julian is wrapped in his arms, his nose buried in the human’s soft hair. “Now, I believe it’s customary that we sleep, my dear. Unless you have other plans.”  
  
Julian can’t keep the wide, stupid grin off his face. He pushes back against Garak, relishes the full body contact. “You’re really not going to leave?” he asks after a while.  
  
“Moving is the farthest thing from my mind at this moment,” Garak assures him, his voice already heavy with sleep.  
  
As Garak’s breathing evens out and his body relaxes, Julian lets his mind wander. Cardassia offers him challenges beyond anything he’s dealt with before. He isn’t sure he’ll be able to handle this dust, the lack of water, the ever-present death. He’s not sure he has Garak’s fortitude. But he does love challenges. And he does love Garak.   
  
Perhaps, though, Julian thinks as he feels himself grow sleepy, all that matters in this moment is the one indisputable fact:  
  
This time, Garak stays.  
  


 


End file.
